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Mind Matters: Gossip in the Lab -- Proceed with Caution
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ByIrene S. Levine, (Ph.D. a freelance journalist who writes about health, mental health, relationships, lifestyles, and travel for national newspapers and magazines)
January, 2010
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(Paul Thompson and Arthur Toga, UCLA - University of California, Los Angeles)
PART I
Amy, a research assistant at a large medical school, takes smoke breaks several times a day. She's made numerous attempts to shake her habit, but so far she hasn't succeeded. One incidental, smoking-related perk, which she's reluctant to give up, is her membership in the clique of smokers who huddle in a semiprotected niche outside the building, regardless of the weather. They come from different research labs and departments to light up -- and gossip. These co-workers don't normally connect on the subject of science, given that they are all involved in different kinds of research. But they seize this opportunity to catch up on workplace politics.
The smokers banter about a lab chief who breathes down the necks of his assistants so closely that working for him is barely tolerable. "He left nice and early himself on New Year's Eve," one says, "but made sure to call at 5 p.m. to make sure that we were still there." Amy thinks she might want to move on to another lab in her department; now she knows she doesn't want to work for that guy.
The smokers chitchat about a principal investigator (PI) who is so focused on getting her next grant and publishing her next paper that she never has time to mentor her assistants. "She treats me like a drone, expecting me to enter data all day. I don't feel like I'm learning anything new from her," says that PI's hopeful protégé. Cross that lab off the list, too, Amy thinks. Another smoker has gotten wind of a rumor that a department chair is interviewing at another university and may not be around that much longer, turning the conversation to what that might mean for the department and the medical school.
"Gossip has a bad reputation, which, for the most part, is well-deserved," says Nicholas DiFonzo, a psychologist at the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York state and author of The Watercooler Effect . "It can be socially corrosive," he adds, noting that gossip can hurt feelings, damage relationships and reputations, disrupt work, and destroy careers.
Gossip's bad reputation is long-standing; the Talmud calls gossip a "three-pronged tongue" that kills the person who says it, the person who listens, and the person about whom it is said. With its serious risks and deep historical and religious aversions, it's not surprising that some offices forbid gossip. In a widely publicized incident in 2007, a Chicago-based public relations agency issued a no-gossip policy and fired three employees for violating it.
In the scientific workplace, gossip may be especially risky, because gossip is almost always based on unverified information, which goes against the grain of basic scientific principles if not necessarily the science-workplace culture. Gossip may be as prevalent in the lab as elsewhere, but there may be less tolerance for gossipers because they are more likely to be viewed as unprofessional.
But is workplace gossip as bad as all that? One could argue that gossip has its positive side. It helps the smokers feel better about themselves in relation to their colleagues and offers them useful insight into the dynamics and unspoken rules of the organization they work for. I asked DiFonzo whether gossip might have gotten a bad rap. "aradoxically, something good can come out of it," DiFonzo says. "It can make us think twice about doing something socially unacceptable." He adds that it can offer an early-warning system, revealing workplace landmines, and provide an outlet for scientific staff to vent feelings and garner support from peers. In effect, it can function as a de facto safety valve in the workplace, allowing whole organizations to self-lubricate and blow off steam.
In his book,Evolution for Everyone: How Darwin's Theory Can Change the Way We Think About Our Lives , Professor David Sloan Wilson of Binghamton University in New York state cites an example, from the Lest culture of Micronesia in the 1930s, that shows how gossip can be a first line of defense against social aberration. He tells about a man whose pig was eating another man's crop. The person whose crop was being ravaged wasn't upset, but townspeople took up the cause, criticizing the transgressor until the man offered his pig to the victim to mitigate the damage not just to the crop but to his own reputation. The aggrieved-but-grateful man didn't accept the pig but insisted that people stop talking about the incident. "Gossip functioned like an immune system, detecting and repairing even this tiny breach of etiquette," Wilson writes.
In society at large, such pressures for conformity can be good or bad. But in a workplace, such self-correction can help to protect a delicate social system against damaging deviations. Gossip provides important social information that helps group members distinguish what behavior is acceptable and what is unacceptable, and helps self-police the latter.
In a workplace where it's prevalent, gossip can also serve as a social lubricant. In an e-mail to Science Careers, Wilson writes, "We're told we're not supposed to gossip, that our reputation plummets." But, he suggests, in some instances gossip among co-workers seems obligatory. "You're obligated to tell, like an informal version of the honor code at military academies." If you refuse to go along, he notes, you can be viewed as not being collegial, or worse.
So if gossip is, on the one hand, potentially damaging to your career, but on the other hand potentially helpful and possibly obligatory, what should you do? Should you gossip in your own scientific workplace? And if you're a manager, how should you approach workplace gossip? |
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